I'd be such a bitch in an ancient battle. Yeah, I love the idea of roaring and swinging a weapon around whilst hulking in armor (except you know I'd be the guy who got a quilted gambeson at best), but I am so afraid of being sliced or pulverized. Imagine being in a simple knife fight. That's terrifying enough. And let's say you survive the first fight without getting your arm cleaved off or the head of an axe buried snug into your ribcage. Now what? Count your blessings and move on to the next guy within swinging range? Roll the dice on that desperate monster with a frantic look in his eye and hope you don't catch a glaive in the meantime? And say you beat him and the others? You survive the battle with manageable wounds and have to worry about the next one? Fuck that, dude. I'd be desserting on day one to live as a hermit in the woods. King can eat me arse. I'd rather live with the crones of Crookback Bog.